Natural
by HiddenCamellia
Summary: Reincarnation AU - RivaMika They are to find each other - in every life time.


**Credits/Disclaimers: Inspired by this image from Tumblr:** **post/121690101684/dfsono-window** **. The story is developed by me, everything else belongs to their respective creators. Written for RivaMikaWeek5 (July 3rd-10th, 2015). Earthy (Day 8).**

The dandelions disintegrate and float in the light summer breeze. Levi stands leaning on one half of the open french doors, dazed. The other half of the door is opened inwards, light streaming from the slightly hot late morning sun. There is a strong gale from the ocean that is swooping the small garden in the balcony up in lush green carpets and dandelion freckles. It makes for a light-hearted picturesque view – a view that he is only looking at but not seeing.

* * *

Somehow, any strong gusts from the oceanside puts Levi in this pensive mood. One where he feels like the salty waters kissing the thin sand beach beckon him towards itself, one where he feels a pull but has no desire to really wade into the water. Some nights he dreams that he is standing by that dirty beach and a shadow creeps up behind him – not to alarm or frighten him, but to embrace him. Everytime, he turns around from the ocean to catch the shadow, it vanishes along with the water. The only thing he is able to catch everytime is a thin red thread of sorts...or blood. He does not actually know.

Once when he had made the blunder of spilling this information to one of his friends, Hanji, she had stared at him awkwardly. What was more memorable about that incident (and had thus, earned the label of "blunder" in his book) was that a random stranger had over heard him while walking by their seats and stopped dead on the tracks – only to fully turn around and stare at him as if he had announced a well-hidden secret to the entire world.

The random stranger had been a lovely young woman, who had provoked the same emotions from him as the ocean did. He had stared back just as unabashedly trying to put a finger on that feeling. Unfortunately, she had been lost since that one run-in. He still remembers her though, silky, short, black hair; sharp features; wide eyes and luscious lips that seemed to never have smiled. And Levi does not know if he is juxtaposing his fantasies and dreams onto someone attractive, but he feels that he remembers a red scarf around her neck. She was tragically beautiful. And she was ephemeral.

He thinks about her often. It's a sad memory. He cannot interpret why hers is a sad memory, but it is.

* * *

A few days pass and a thunderstorm knocks at the heavens above his secluded abode. He does not live in a populated neighbourhood – the closest neighbour being five-to-six miles out along the length of the deserted beach, but it is by design. Perhaps it was that ocean-calling tick too. He had not realised it during his younger days, but building a home here had had the "right feeling" and a deep satisfaction. Now, sometimes, he would wonder if he had given in to that instinct without consciously naming it. Some days it makes him believe in divine intervention and other days berate his inability to control a fleeting "urge".

Thunder booms from the heavy rain-clouds above and lightning dances to the beats. He closes all doors and windows and dims most of the lights. The raging emotions of Nature are always welcome to him and his solitude. He waits for the dizzying rain, which arrives in all it's forceful grandeur muffling out everything else.

He is rocking in his chair by the fireplace, lazily blinking at the storm outside when there is a soft knock on the door. It is not soft, but anything human is feeble in front of the performance of the dark sky. He almost misses it and then alerts himself enough to go up and take a look at who had come to rob him at this hour of the night.

The knocking intensifies in it's rapidity. And he briskly walks up to the door, before carefully, silently leveling up to it's side to hear the other side. His efforts fail for only the slamming rain greets his tightly pressed ear. Peeping through the hole yields nothing but a mass of black something.

Against his better judgment he decides to prop open the door, safety-chain in place. There is a woman standing outside shielding her face from the pouring water and screaming against the wind about "car broke down" - "help" - "rain too strong". With cautiousness still lacing his mind, he lets the chain fall from the door and opens it fully. He hasn't even uttered a word throughout this small ordeal and does not even get the opportunity to offer his home to a stranded soul, when said soul practically runs inside. She is careful enough to stop on the first mat so as not to ruin the floor with the water cascading down her body. She is shaking in the comparative temperature difference between her body and his home and also in frustration of getting leaves and water out of her hair and face.

Levi closes the door, attentively keeping his eye on this unannounced guest. She finally looks up as the bolt clicks into place and for a moment the entire world stops in time. Those wide-eyes, red lips, and unmistakable black hair are unforgettable. His random stranger has once again, strangely walked into his home on a random night.

* * *

Just staring isn't enough because he wants to ask her everything. Her presence brings that pull of the ocean again and he isn't sure if he is losing his sanity or dreaming again. He blinks. Once. Twice. Thrice. And steps towards her, she instinctively backs towards his living room. He does not want to scare her away, so he stops with a, "Are you alright, Miss?"

She answers with a nod and holds him in her gaze – afraid that he might assault her if her concentration is broken. Perhaps she is feeling the consequences of walking into a stranger's home too. He heaves a small sigh and introduces himself. It is about time.

"I am Levi. I understand that you are looking for a shelter from the storm? You are welcome to wait it out here." He would like to offer her his home – _and he doesn't know why -_ but it won't do to come across as a criminal at the first chance of getting to talk to her. She relaxes visibly.

"I am Mikasa. Thank you for letting me in. My car couldn't quite take the rain. I will leave as soon as the weather improves." Her breathing is a little heavy and words a little rushed, but she seems to be doing alright. He offers to give her his clothes that she politely declines. He does not like the idea of her catching an illness, but there really isn't a lot he can say or do short of forcing her. Again, he is not a criminal and he should work on not coming off as such.

He gestures towards the fireplace; warmth, at least he can offer and asks if she would like something hot to drink. Shedding her shyness, she asks for tea, if he has any. Of course, he has.

* * *

So, he puts the water to boil in the kitchen while running through all possible ways of asking her probably too-personal questions, in his head and returns to the living room to find her sitting close to the fire, on the floor. He hurries to shoo her off and offer her a chair.

"But I am drenched, I wouldn't want to ruin your beautiful home." It's a compliment and her kindness.

"Thank you, but please do take a seat." He says, pushing forward his rocking chair.

When she doesn't budge, he can only sigh and the whistling pot reminds him of his tea etiquette. He is back from the kitchen in under five minutes with two cups of steaming Darjeeling tea with just a hint of chamomile. He hands one to her, that she gratefully accepts thanking him profusely. As she is smelling and reveling in the warmth that is rising from the giant cup, he sits down by her in front of the fireplace. Enough distance separating them, but something else connecting them. She looks at him surprised, while he just manages with a small smile.

Their first sips are synchronised and both are looking over their half-submerged faces in their respective cups to catch a glimpse of each other. She recovers first, drawing her head up.

"Do you still dream of standing by the ocean, a shadow of blood trying to embrace you?"

He is shocked into silence, eyes enlarged, lips still settled on the too hot ceramic cup. The slow build up of the burn snaps him out of his reverie. "You remember. You remember?" There are a thousand questions behind that one, but he cannot quite phrase them. She picks up the pace though.

"I know too."

He is curious now and the changes in his face are enough to earn him a tiny smile from the woman in front of him.

"Yes, I remember – to answer your first question. And I know from my own dreams – to answer your second. I have that dream too. Much too often." She is biting her lips, looking down in confusion and apprehension, most likely wondering whether "lunatic" would be the right term to apply here and how soon the mental hospital staff would get here after he dashes for his phone or presses a well-concealed emergency button somewhere.

"Do you have a scar on the inside of your left wrist?" Her head snaps up and she is very clearly bewildered. And he knows that he is right. Soon her beautiful features change again, as he confesses, "I don't know why I know that."

And all hell breaks lose.

A succession of loud claps of thunder, lightning to match it and a sudden increase of the rain securely seals their fates for the rest of the night as each other's companions, but neither seem to mind for there is too much to talk about and what is seemingly starting to look like, too much to catch up on.

"I do have a scar. I don't know why...a birthmark? Is what I have always thought of it. Do you have one too? On.." She falters here, looking away for a moment before gathering all her courage and resuming, "..on your lower back? Left side?" She is embarrassed, obviously.

He is stupefied (and has lost count of how many times he has been shocked that evening), but he sighs and closes his eyes for a brief moment. Opening them, he informs her, "I had a feeling you would counter with that." He breaks into a contented smile and she follows. Both diving back into their cups for more of the sustaining liquid that is flavouring their time together.

"I am Levi Ackerman. Nice to meet you – again, perhaps?" He is tentative in his reintroduction.

"I am Mikasa Ackerman. Nice to meet you – again, for sure." She is confident in _this_.

The flames are small in the fireplace, but enough to suffice for the night. It's a long one, they both know it. But with flickering timber against their skins and an ever-darkening sky, it will be a lovely one.

 **A/N: I need to stop writing things that inevitably need sequels x-(**


End file.
